


The Diary of Revali, The Rito Legend

by ClazeyJ



Category: Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity (Video Game), The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Diary/Journal, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Headcanon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:41:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29919120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClazeyJ/pseuds/ClazeyJ
Summary: As part of a long and enduring tradition in Rito Village, every appointed captain of the guard is bestowed a blank journal from his or her predecessor. After being gifted a journal from his predecessor, Revali makes the decision to record the many trials and tribulations he's faced with.
Kudos: 17





	1. A Letter from Mother to Son

To the 74th Captain of Rito Village's guard,

I can't even begin to express just how proud of you I am, Revali. It seemed like only yesterday your father and I had introduced you to the world. You were our second son, but our seventh child overall! From the moment I held you in my arms for the very first time, I knew you'd grow up to do incredible things for the Kingdom of Hyrule. And as luck would have it, my intuition was right. Over the years, I've watched you grow from a curious, inquisitive boy to the educated, well-versed and capable man you are today. You've achieved a lot for only eighteen years of life; from your countless records across Hyrule's many archery camps, to your intelligence and verbosity, you're well-deserving of the title of captain. If your father and your elder siblings were here today, I'm sure they'd believe the same, too.

I have three expectations of you. First, I want you to do whatever it takes to protect the people of Rito Village, just as the former captains have done for you. You make all the calls now, so don't be hesitant in doing the right thing at the right time. Second, don't pay any heed to those who claim you're too "blunt" or "brash" to lead our guards; nobody _ever_ became captain around here with wishy-washy demeanours. And finally, I'd like for you to keep at this journal each and every day; it's not only a valuable insight for your successors into the role of a captain, but it'll also be an item of great sentimental value to your children, your grandchildren, and so on and so forth. I'm confident you'll be able to take on this role with the utmost pride and discipline. Once again, congratulations on your appointment!

Lots of love,  
Mom.

_**\- - -** _

_|| This journal was presented to Revali Quill, 74th appointed captain of the Rito Village guard, by his predecessor, Marli Quill, on the 6th of April, 1916 ||_


	2. First Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up that this entry contains allusions to traumatic injuries.
> 
> \- CJ

|| April 7, 1916 ||

Dear any future children, grandchildren and/or so on and so forths of mine,

Mother (your grandmother, that is) had gifted me this journal yesterday with tears in her eyes. In front of _everyone_ in the village, no less! However, I don't blame her. Ever since she'd been incapacitated on the job, she'd been crushed. I could see it in the way she'd asked me to care for the little brats she calls her _'little_ _darlings'_ the night succeeding the incident, and the night after that, and the night after _that!_ I will say, if I'd had _my_ career (and my leg) cut short by a Yiga Clansman's foul blade, _I_ wouldn't be too pleased about it either. Yet, _despite_ all of this, she had been smiling _though_ said tears!

Did Mother _enjoy_ crying? Was she _amused_ at my mortification? If not, why couldn't she just compose herself like the rest of us?

It's _just_ an appointment ceremony. I don't see the need to make such a fuss, and you shouldn't, either.

**\- - -**

This morning had gone _just_ about as well as I'd expected it to be. Mother insisted on making last-minute adjustments to my uniform from her bed, even though the doctors had strictly ordered her to take it easy. I'd told her not to fuss over me; after all, I have more important matters to attend to, such as my job. Needless to say, she'd waved me out of the house, instructing me to organise breakfast for those two horrors she has the nerve to call her _'little darlings'_. As expected, my younger siblings had _nothing_ better to do that morning except complain to me. About what? Everything under the Din-forsaken _Sun,_ it seemed!

_**"Medli** got a piece of bread from the middle of the loaf! Why can't **I** get a piece of bread from the middle of the loaf?!"_

_"Stop **pinching** me, Komali! Stop it! Revali, tell him to **stop** it!"  
_

_"I wanted orange juice! Not apple! I don't_ **_want_ ** _this!"_

_"Where's Mom? I want **her** breakfast, not yours!"_

_"It's too bright! Tell the Sun to go away!"_

Every. Single. Morning.

Mother says they don't mean any harm. _"They're only little,"_ she proclaims. _"They don't know any better. And besides, you were five once **too,** Revali." _But I don't care if they're five. It certainly doesn't stop them from acting in such a belligerent way that'd make even the most hostile of our enemies blush. I wonder if she bumped her head during that incident involving the Yiga Clansman. It'd _certainly_ explain her ignorance towards their paltry squabbling.

**\- - -**

Once I'd finally managed to get those demons to finish their breakfast, I began my first shift as the Rito guard's captain. There's not much I have to do in addition to my prior duties as a regular guard. I'll address the guards every morning by the landing, assigning each troop a position in the village to watch over in the morning. Afterwards, I'll watch over the new recruits stationed in the village, making sure they don't get themselves into petty conflict against the civilians over trivial things. Once I'm absolutely certain they're not going to act akin to those varmints I have the misfortune of sharing parents with, I'll report anything out of the ordinary to the elder, which, if you're well-aware of the crime rate in Rito Village, translates to absolutely nothing. And I do the same thing over and over again, _all_ the way up until midday. The guards will return to the landing, and then?

Well, we do it all over again until seven in the evening.

After that, the day guard will go their separate ways for the night, and I'll instruct the night guard before heading home myself. In fact, I was instructing said night guard mere moments before. Right now, I'm at home, writing this entry. Medli and Komali are clinging to Mother's every word as she recites a bedtime story to them. My sister's clutching that ratty old blanket of hers like it's made of gold. She's completely oblivious to its abhorrent condition. It seems every _day,_ at least ten threads are falling off the damned thing. I keep telling Mother and Medli it _might_ just be time to throw it away now, but my sister will start shrieking like a Keese, and the only way I can get her to shut up is to apologise to her. I'm never genuine in my apologies, of course. She really _should_ throw it away. But it seems as if the second I even _think_ of uttering the word _'sorry',_ she immediately forgets I'd even said anything about throwing away her blanket. It's concerning that she hasn't quite grasped the concept of sarcasm yet. I'd already had low expectations for such a bratty child, but she consistently proves those expectations too high with her idiocy.

I'll admit, I'm impressed.

**\- - -**

When I was appointed as captain, I expected I'd be helping the most seasoned of guards take down those damned Yiga Clansmen that seem to swarm our village every second week. I imagined I'd be driving arrows into the hearts of Lynels, all while I received nothing but showers of praise like Mother had while _she_ was the captain. I wasn't expecting the role to be such a soporific experience. But despite my expectations, nothing happened today.

 _Nothing_ at all.

All throughout the day, I could feel their eyes trained on me. The civilians. And the other guards. They probably couldn't stop imagining me swooping in to save the day from those foolish Yiga Clansmen. Or perhaps driving arrows into the hearts of pathetic Lynels. And that, I am confident in.

A word of advice to any future children, grandchildren and/or so on and so forths reading this: the first day will almost _always_ certainly be a bore. Nothing _ever_ happens on the first day. So if you're feeling nervous about being bestowed such a grandiose honour as captain of the guard...  
 _...don't._

Yours sincerely,  
Revali Quill.


	3. Excavations

|| April 8, 1916 ||

Dear any children, grandchildren and/or so on and so forths of mine,

Being geographically located in such a faraway place, we seldom get any visitors from other regions of Hyrule. Sometimes, we'll get the odd Hyrulean soldier checking in on us from the capital, and perhaps we might see travellers from the neighbouring province of Gerudo, but that's it, really. Needless to say, one could _probably_ imagine my shock when I'd made my rounds to the elder's house and stumbled across two Sheikah scientists. And they weren't just _any_ old scientists, no. They'd been appointed as such by the King of Hyrule _himself!_

I'll say, I was certainly taken aback when the elder asked me to accompany them to an excavation site north of here.

**\- - -**

I'd heard many rumours about it. The structure the Sheikah been unearthing as per the King's orders, that is. It was all _anyone_ in town cared to speak of. When the knights had visited to inform Mother and the elder that they'd be excavating _it,_ they'd both agreed to let them without question. It was _because_ of this planned excavation that I hadn't heard _one_ mention of my dear mother's injuries, not even a mere murmur from the usual culprit gossipers. The civilians were far too interested in the scientists' work to think about the very real fact that we'd been attacked not too long ago. For some outrageous reason, though, Mother was actually quite relieved she wasn't the centre of attention for once. But I digress. It's not that I don't find the excavations uninteresting; on the contrary, I'mabout as intrigued as everybody else is at this point.

It's _just_ that I don't think people should waste their time on the archaeologists, who, _may_ I remind you, are just doing their jobs.

I don't understand why they need to parade around the village, talking about the _'next big breakthroughs'_ and whatever other nonsense they tell themselves.

**\- - -**

Before I knew it, I'd been whisked away to the Hebra Mountains alongside Robbie and Purah, the two Sheikah scientists from the eastern plains of Hyrule Field. I'm not sure _what_ it is about those two in particular, but they'd seemed rather... _how_ do I put this... _eccentric._ They'd found solace in talking a mile a minute to one another; the usual topics include how unbelievably cold it was here (winters aren't _that_ bad here, they were just being unreasonable), how excited they were to unearth _it_ (trust me when I say I know, it was all I'd _heard_ for the past week from the civilians!), and, _would_ you believe it...how unbelievably _cold_ it was.

_Ridiculous._

On the odd occassion they weren't talking to each other, they were talking to me, or as I should rather say, _at_ me. I didn't engage at first; I just nodded my head whenever they spoke and remained silent, and they'd usually return to their own conversations. I was afraid if I encouraged their chit-chat, I'd never hear the end of it. But it wasn't long before I'd started to feel uneasy. That something was going to happen. I wasn't necessarily worried for our safety; if any Lynels or Hinoxes or murderous Yiga Clansmen threatened us, I'm certain I could take each and every last bastard down. It was most likely out of complete and utter boredom, but I'd found myself going against my decision to ignore the duo, and I'd decided to strike up conversation with them.

**\- - -**

Medoh was the name of the structure they were unearthing. Purah claimed she and the other scientists had named it after an ancient Rito Sage, but I like to think they ran out of ideas after naming the other three. Besides, there were only six sages throughout the infamous Era of Time, and _none_ of them were Rito. I should know, I've read _all_ about the Sages.

_"Naboris, named after Nabooru, the Gerudo Sage of Spirit."_

_"Rudania, named after Darunia, the Goron Sage of Fire."_

_"Ruta, named after Ruto, the Zora Sage of Water."_

_"Hmm...quickly! Name this one after the first thing you see outside the window!"  
_

_"All I can see are meadows. Maybe we need a change of scenery-"  
_

_"By Din's fire, that's **it!**_ _Let's call **this** one Medoh!"_

I find it amusing that my sister's name is similar to that of the structure being excavated. Mother said she'd named her and her twin brother after great-grandparents of ours. I...admittedly don't know much about them or what they did. Much of our history is jaded, lost to time itself. We Rito evolved from the Zora, but _why_ this had happened, I can't tell you.

No matter.

I can't imagine how restraining life would be as a Zora, confined to the water (and to some degree, the land). I don't understand why they don't seem to be bothered about it! There's something exhilarating about taking flight. Soaring through the skies. Wind gusting through your feathers. And _let's_ not forget all of those pathetic, flightless Hylians stuck on the grounds below staring up at you in a complete state of envy. If any of you children, grandchildren and/or so on and so forths of mine _just_ so happen to be reading this, let it be known that I take great pride in honing my superior skills and talents. And you should, too.

Yours sincerely,  
Revali Quill.


	4. Attack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to preface this entry with a warning that it contains graphic depictions of violence and death.
> 
> \- CJ

|| April 9, 1916 ||

Dear any children, grandchildren and/or so on and so forths of mine,

I would like to take this opportunity to apologise in advance for any profanity I may use in the following entry. It's not particularly customary of me to use such childish words, but it's _also_ not productive of me to continue to internalise my frustrations in regards to the incident. I'd rather not get my feathers in a ruffle in front of Medli and Komali; they've suffered _enough_ throughout all this chaos. But I will leave a recount of what happened for those of you who happen to stumble across my journal, because it needs to be said. There's no use in pretending it didn't happen, because it did.

Last night, the village was attacked.

**\- - -**

It all began when I had escorted Robbie and Purah out of the village after they'd reported their findings to the elder. I wasn't paying attention to what they were droning on about, for it was all wish-wash I'd already heard throughout the long and tedious day of acting as guard for the duo. But I'd heard one new tidbit of information from the latter.

 _"Y'know,"_ Purah had declared to my village's elder, her eyes sparkling and her hands clasped together like glue, _"King Rhoam assigned pilots to Naboris and Rudania just the other day!"_

 _"Hmm,"_ the elder asked back with his usual air of intrigue, _"is that_ _so? And whom, may I ask, have been chosen?"  
_

 _"Lady Urbosa of the Gerudo and Lord Daruk of the Gorons, my man,"_ Robbie retorted in that annoyingly improper tone of his. _"Anyhoo, Princess Zelda and her aide are probably gonna rock up here at some point in the week. They're looking to find a pilot for Medoh, y'know?"_

_"The Divine Beast you finished excavating?"  
_

_"Yup!"_ Purah chirped back to him. _"According to our research, piloting a Divine Beast takes immense strength and discipline. And I'm not surprised, considering these pilots are up against the Calamity! So...if you know any potential candidates before Zelda shows up, shoot a letter with their names our way, 'kay?"_

I'd had to leave, because my younger siblings were (you guessed it!) pestering me for their dinner. But as I carried the little brats downstairs to our house, I couldn't help but to smile. I already knew what kind of pilot Purah was asking the elder for. Why, she _may_ as well just have asked for me by name! But enough of that. It's not important.

What _is_ important is the carnage that had ensued upon the scientists' departure.

**\- - -**

The alarms had been sounded in a timely manner. My guards had done _everything_ right; they'd been in the correct formations, they held adequate supplies of ammunition, they'd even managed to evacuate the families living in the north-west.

Yet, _despite_ their valiant efforts...it had _all_ gone so _very_ wrong.

The Moblins were the first to attack, with their jagged spears and their slimy snouts rearing their ugly heads in through the south-east. I left Medli and Komali in the care of our mother, and had headed off to deal with them alongside those stationed in the village. It hadn't taken long for us to get rid of the original group, but every time we got rid of _one,_ two _more_ just showed up in its place! It took an hour, but we were eventually able to get rid of the sly bastards.

But then came the Lynels. And the Hinoxes.

They were approaching the village from all sides. The guards had been quickly overwhelmed. They could only fight for so long, and enemy numbers were increasing ever-so-steadily. I eventually made the decision to head into the heart of the village, and this was for two rather comprehensible reasons. Obviously, the guards were preoccupied with the enemies closing in on our outer borders, so there was nobody left to defend the village should they all fall. And in addition, I wanted to see to it that my siblings were safe at home.

As I would soon find out, that wasn't the case.

**\- - -**

Despite her lack of recovery, Mother was already on guard, wielding her weapon of choice. She was already at the elder's house once I had reached him. Medli and Komali were there too, bawling their eyes out like the noisy idiots they are. But Mother and the elder weren't mad with them. They seemed to be understanding and patient with them. They'd offered the demon-spawn gentle words of assurance, despite the fact that five buildings were on fire and every three seconds, someone's ungodly shriek would cut through the air from the battlegrounds below. I'd been meaning to return to the fight, but I knew that my mother, my siblings and the elder _needed_ me here. Who _else_ was supposed to protect them? We watched the whole scenario unfold for thirty minutes...

...at which point, it had fallen dead silent.

Thinking the silence suggested a victory on our part, I decided to go and investigate. I soon realised this was a foolish and costly mistake. It had only taken three seconds of my back being turned away. The squelch of a blade stabbing through flesh. Ear-piercing screams from my siblings. My heart had stopped, fearing that they'd been impaled. But as I turned around, I realised they were actually perfectly fine. And so was Mother. A little shaken, yes, but the three were alive and without any fresh injuries.

The elder, on the other hand, had been stabbed in the chest.

And the culprit?

A mechanical, ovoid figure, cloaked in a thick haze of deep violet smoke.

**\- - -**

I gave chase to the figure as soon as I'd seen the elder keeled over on the ground, dying in a pool of his own blood. As soon as it had figured out I was after it, it rushed down the stairs as fast as its spidery, metal legs could manage. Unfortunately, this technique of rushing away proved to be fruitful for the scum that had murdered our elder. Every time I thought I was about to catch it, it seemed to suddenly jump yards ahead. I don't know how long I was chasing after it, but it felt like hours. It was guiding me into the heart of the battlefields. The coat of snow upon the ground, usually pure and pristine, was soaked with the deep red blood of fighters from both sides. In many instances, these patches of blood were accompanied by bodies. Some were moving...

...some were not.

As I'd chased the bloody thing to the edge of the village, I noticed something rather intriguing about this figure. It seemed to take on a strikingly similar design to the structure I'd watched Robbie and Purah unearth earlier yesterday. After spending all day walking around the damn Divine Beast after them, I think I'd know what the designs consisted of.

In the impermanent moment I had been pondering over these similarities, it ran away. And so had the remaining monsters.

Shaken from the whole ordeal, I was unsure of what to do. Stupid of me, I know. I shouldn't have been standing around doing nothing; _that's_ not what I was appointed captain for. Some of the uninjured guards were already assessing the damage, so I joined them.

**\- - -**

Each and every home was raided; not one had gone without at least some item of value being stolen. Hundreds of these homes had been damaged or even _destroyed_ in all the chaos. Eighty-one civilians had been injured, and of those eighty-one, forty-three had their mobility compromised by their injuries. Thirteen dead.

The elder was one of the thirteen.

It was a targeted attack. That I am certain of. I'm starting to suspect that the Sheikah scientists had reasons for visiting our village alongside their research of that Divine Beast. Why would that figure manifest out of seemingly nowhere and kill our elder? That's right, it _can't_ manifest out of seemingly nowhere. Someone _had_ to have put that figure in the elder's house for it to have gone unnoticed, and Robbie and Purah were in the _optimum_ position to do so. Furthermore, it had all started the moment they'd left. Those monsters were _merely_ a distraction. It's too much of a coincidence to dismiss.

 _Someone_ wanted the elder dead, and they _got_ what they wanted.

Whether it were those loud-mouthed scientists, or even the King himself, _I_ don't know. But what I _do_ know is that I _should_ have been more vigilant. It's all my fault that he's dead. So let this be a lesson to you, future children, grandchildren and/or so on and so forths of mine. Keep your eyes open. Don't turn your back on those you must protect. And most importantly, assume all guests, _even_ well-meaning ones, will do anything it takes to cause great disruption to your peaceful life.

Yours sincerely,  
Revali Quill.


	5. Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya, just a heads up this chapter deals with themes of death and traumatic injury.
> 
> \- CJ

|| April 10, 1916 ||

Dear any children, grandchildren and/or so on and so forths of mine,

Death is _just_ another fact of life. Just like the rising of the sun each morning, and just like the setting of the sun each evening, death is inevitable. It happens to everyone. It'll happen to me, it'll happen to _you,_ it'll happen to your _children_ , and it'll happen to _your_ grandchildren and/or so on and so forths. So don't pretend it doesn't happen.

The sooner you get that through your head? The _better._

**\- - -**

I don't remember them all too well, for six of the seven had passed away when I was only four. But my elder siblings, to the degree I _can_ remember them, were a rather reckless lot. They were always running around, getting up to all sorts of trouble. In one instance, they'd stolen the sausage casings from the butcher, filled them up with water and then proceeded to throw them down at unsuspecting Hylian tourists from our neighbour's house. On another occassion, they'd made the absolutely _ingenious_ decision to play a game of truth or dare...

...with a twist.

Those who didn't follow through with the truths or the dares would be pushed off the landing, where due to their lack of wing development, they'd inevitably land in the icy waters of Lake Totori and have to climb _all_ the way back up to the village, where Mother would ineluctably scold them. I'd stupidly agreed to join them one day. And considering some of their dare suggestions were outright illegal at best, that went about as well as one could expect it to. Because it had been a particularly cold day, even for us Rito, I'd ended up catching a cold from the waters. Mother hadn't been too happy about that one. So from that day on, I'd kept to myself. I wasn't going to waste _any_ more of my time on their brutish games.

**\- - -**

I still remember it like it was yesterday. A storm was brewing, and both of our parents were stationed by the borders. The snow was thick and heavy; those at home were relentlessly sweeping it off their front porches and the staircases. My eldest brother had been pestering the six of us to play the stupid game of truth, dare or jump off the ridiculously high cliff. Fortunately for me, I'd developed a bad cold, so Mother had warned them beforehand to leave me be. And besides, I had _plenty_ of books I could read to pass the time; they were stacked in a pile next to my hammock. So why _would_ I want to join in on their childish games? I was able to get through five picture books and two novellas before it happened.

The gust of wind.

One thing you ought to know, if you _don't_ already, is that Rito are actually rather susceptible to gusts of wind. This is due to our low weights. However, we mightn't be able to fly if we were any heavier. It's a small price to pay for such an incredible ability, and besides, you'll quickly learn to use these gusts of wind to your advantage, whether you wish to fly at a greater acceleration or dodge any aerial-bound enemies. But that day, that _cursed_ day, the wind had swept through our village. Being children _and_ Rito, my elder brother and sisters were incredibly lightweight. The winds had been gusting against the jagged cliffside. They'd been incredibly foolish to play their childish games in such unfavourable conditions.

I hope it was quick. That they didn't have to suffer for too long.

**\- - -**

Avis, my eldest sister and the second Quill child, had raced up the stairs, her chartreuse eyes stricken with fear. She was shaking and trembling. At first, I presumed she'd been subjected to our eldest brother's outrageous dares, but then I realised she would have taken a blanket and wrapped it around her. No. She was completely dry. She hadn't jumped. But from the look in her eyes, that look of despair and fear, I knew deep down that something was wrong. That our siblings _had_ jumped. I was about to wave her away to continue reading my books, but that was when I heard yelling and shouting from the guards on duty that day. The blizzard was dying down. We could see again. I tried to see what had happened, but the guards kept on dragging me away. I told them to stop, that I had _just_ as much right as anyone else around here to know what was happening in _my_ village. But I wish I hadn't.

Five bodies. Three slumped against the rocks at the bottom. And two floating, face down, in the waters.

Avis was a blubbering mess by the time my parents arrived. She couldn't stop crying. Didn't stop until she'd exhausted herself and passed out that night. The poor girl saw _everything._ Heard it too, I imagine. I couldn't stop thinking about it. Couldn't sleep. I tried to. But seeing my brother and sisters. Seeing their empty hammocks. Just _knowing_ that I'd never see them again. I've tried to forget it, but incidents such as that of yesterday always bring it back up.

**\- - -**

After their funeral, things were different. Life was quieter. I no longer heard the shrilly giggles of my siblings as they caused their usual mischief. Instead, I heard our neighbours offering to cook for us. To help us clean. To take over my parents' shifts. I heard our neighbours assuring Avis and I that everything was going to be alright. That if we need to talk to anyone, they'd be happy to listen. My tutor had assured me that I could take a break for as long as I needed, but I didn't want a break. I just wanted to hear their voices again. I wanted them to pester me to join in on their silly games. I wanted to hear them grumble and groan as our parents assigned our chores for the day. But death is permanent.

Our now fragmented family was too quiet. My father, once an enthusiastic and dedicated guard, metamorphosed into a hollow shell of himself. He no longer greeted my sister or I with smiles and questions about how our days had gone. He'd return from his shifts and sit by our siblings' hammocks, staring at their untouched blankets, pillows and other belongings. He'd do this until it was time to sleep. Then he'd wake up, go on shift and then do it all over again. I didn't hear him speak at all. Not to my mother, not to _us,_ not to _anyone._ Likewise but _also_ conversely, Mother would always spend at least twenty minutes every night embracing my sister and I in a suffocating hug. She'd then cry herself to sleep every night, asking our silent father where she'd gone wrong.

Avis and I never mentioned it to them. We stayed quiet.

My sister began to read books, like I did every day. Our neighbours' children would ask if we wanted to play with them. What were they _thinking?_ Of _course_ we didn't. Over half of our family had just died, and the _best_ idea they could muster in their pea-sized brains was to invite us to do the _very_ thing that had killed them. And besides, reading was _far_ better than causing trouble for the village. But I could tell deep down that Avis wanted to play. She wanted to run, to fly, to sing and laugh. To do the things she'd done with our fell brother and sisters. She _just_ didn't want to play with the Arciere children.

**\- - -**

When I was ten and Avis was fifteen, she had taken her own life. She hadn't been able to cope. My parents, already grieving over our other siblings, now had one more to grieve. Four years after her death, my father had passed away. He'd been killed in action, leaving Mother and I on our own. She didn't leave home for eight months. She'd lie down in her hammock, staring at the ceiling of our house. During that time, I'd had to take over the role of breadwinner for the house. I decided to enlist in the guard, knowing that it was the only way I could bring in money and keep an eye on her at the same time. Each day, I'd train for two hours and then I'd go out with my supervisor on patrol.

This happened until my two younger siblings were born.

When they'd arrived on the 27th of May, 1912, it was as if something had switched in my mother's head. She was determined to care for these new two lives she'd been entrusted with. She wanted to do all she could to ensure that they could survive, just like I had. While they irk me with their childish mannerisms to this very day, I have them to thank for giving Mother a reason to carry on. They hadn't even had to _do_ anything; they simply existed. And that was enough to bring Mother back to reality.

**\- - -**

Mother and I try to keep face around Medli and Komali. They're perfectly content with the present. They don't need to know about the tragedy inflicted upon our family. Not yet. Maybe when they're old enough to understand that death is inevitable, and that sometimes it takes away those close to us far too soon, we can sit them down and explain to them why our elder family members aren't here. But not today. They're too young. Too innocent. And who am _I_ to take that away from them? If any future children, grandchildren and/or so on and so forths of mine are reading this, and _you_ have children? Don't force your little ones to bear the burden of death and trauma alone. Help them through it. You'll thank me when they don't grow up to resent their childhoods like I did.

Yours sincerely,  
Revali Quill.


	6. Misconceptions and Misunderstandings

|| April 11, 1916 ||

Dear any children, grandchildren and/or so on and so forths of mine,

I never expected myself to write down the following words, but I only _now_ have the time to write down what happened today. For a tad of context as to why this is noteworthy, Mother and my siblings have already gone to sleep (and believe me when I say they go to bed rather late!). Most other civilians have finally managed to settle down for the night, but I? I'm not particularly tired, _as per se._ I'm actually quite awake. Normally, I would have written an entry while Mother was reciting a bedtime story to the brats, but tonight is different. They struggled to sleep. _I_ can't sleep, and haven't been able to adequately do so ever since I'd watched that _thing_ murder the elder. Strange occurrences have been unfolding lately in the village; for a place that proclaims to be the most peaceful in all of Hyrule, it certainly doesn't _feel_ that way.

**\- - -**

The village was already on high alert from the aforementioned attack, and thus, we had ordered a complete lockdown. We'd sent out five messengers – one to Gerudo Town, one to Goron City, one to Zora's Domain, one to Kakariko Village and one to Hyrule Castle Town – with a simple, easy to comprehend message. No visitors from the rest of Hyrule were allowed. I hadn't just ordered my guard to go on patrol today, I had ordered anyone who was able-bodied, uninjured and could stand their ground in a fight. But still, when I'd addressed the guard this morning, I hadn't been expecting the turnout that I witnessed. Out of a village of two thousand, about one thousand, seven hundred and twenty-six guards and civilians from all walks of life had shown up. Men and women I'd usually see behind the counters of stores, or perhaps ushering people inside said stores, were wielding their bows, spears and swords with determination. The only people who hadn't shown up were the seriously injured, the children and mothers of said children, but I didn't mind. I expected nothing but victory in the instance of conflict, considering the turnout was about ten times greater than the total number enlisted in the active guard. One could say I was confident.

 _Too_ confident.

You see, I was expecting one of two things to occur today. First, the figure could return, alongside all those monsters (and perhaps those Sheikah who'd most certainly ordered the figure to murder the elder and traumatise my brother and sister). Or second, nothing would happen. Absolutely nothing. Because any idiots who thought they might have a chance against an entire army would be swiftly disheartened by our numbers.

I _wasn't_ expecting involvement from the Hylians.

**\- - -**

I had advised the leaders of each troop to report back to me at the elder's house every hour, or immediately if they got into any conflict. My right-hand, who I shall refer to as Vice-Captain Arciere (she's a piece of work, and I refuse to speak her name!), had arrived about three hours into our lockdown with news of particular interest to me. Four individuals were approaching. Two Hylians, one man and one woman. A Sheikah, also a woman. And what she had described as a mechanical, egg-shaped critter with spidery legs and a white exoskeleton.

The description sounded hauntingly familiar to what I had previously encountered in the instance of the elder's murder.

I immediately ordered her to gather as many troops as she could and take them all out. I wasn't going to take any chances; _not_ after what happened to us. I then returned to my home in order to check on Mother and my siblings. The brats were playing with a spider they'd found underneath a closet, while Mother was watching the skies, which were hazy with snow. She then turned to me, a look of concern in her eyes.

 _"Why aren't you out there, Revali?"_ she'd asked me. _"Why aren't you helping your guard?"_ I was taken aback by the comment, as one might be. My guard needed to know where I was at _all_ times, so that they could report any incidents to me. And if _I_ was moving about all over the place, they couldn't do that! Didn't she understand? She was once the captain of the guard! Out of _every_ Rito Villager, I would have expected _her_ to understand with the _most_ clarity! But I didn't have time to respond, for Vice-Captain Arciere had rushed into our house, seething with rage.

 _"I was looking for you, idiot!"_ she hollered at me. _"The enemy's made it inside the village! They've wiped out half the guard already! Why did you leave your station?!"  
_

Do I _leave_ or do I stay? Why can't they _just_ make up their minds?!

 _"That's enough,"_ I reprimanded the two. _"I'll deal with them myself."_

**\- - -**

I'd arrived to the northern part of the village, where the Hylian man and the Sheikah were, alongside that cursed figure. Troops were lying on the ground, left, right and centre; they sported all sorts of injuries. The Hylian and the Sheikah both wielded swords of different lengths. And the figure...it looked at me with its lone, beady blue eye. I recall it was red. No, this one was different. But no matter. Whoever ordered that bastard purple figure to attack us was probably training this one to do the same thing to another group of innocent people. I didn't acknowledge the trio. I didn't listen to their mile-a-minute chatter. I didn't even hesitate to begin defending those left standing.

I took no chances.

All my training in life, every single lesson I'd been taught by my mother, and [until his death] my father, led up to _this_ moment. I did everything I could. I tried taking them out with arrows. Hitting them. Swooping them. I did _everything.  
_

But I quickly understood why my soldiers were all keeled over on the ground in pain.

Her swipes at me were as swift as a coursing river. Whenever I turned around to try my hand at taking down the Hylian, she was back in my vision. And I discovered rather quickly that she had an extraordinary ability: she could summon perfect replicas of herself to fight alongside her. I don't know how many times I got my tail feathers handed to me by her and her creations back there, but I _do_ know it was far too many. Thankfully, she had faltered. She had tripped over the stupid figure, and in that moment, I had managed to take her down with an arrow to the calf. Her stupid clones had disappeared, and to that, _I_ say good riddance. The figure stayed by her side, and in that moment, I had tried to take it out too. Considering what that _other_ one had done to the elder, I didn't _particularly_ fancy dealing with something just like it in _my_ town.

It seemed that the Hylian had _different_ plans.

I don't even know where to _begin_ with that asshole. _What_ a pathetic moron. He'd been dressed in the garb of a knight, suggesting that he was enlisted in the National Hyrulean Guard. I'd been expecting him to have language as colourful as that Sheikah (however many times she shrieked _'Steel yourself!'_ at the top of her annoyingly loud lungs, I don't know). But he had remained silent. Unmoved by my very presence. It was as if this was an ordinary instance for him, to be plundering villages and tormenting their people. It truly angered me to my core, knowing that he wasn't even taking this seriously. Did he find amusement in my people's suffering?

As to our ensuing fight, I don't particularly fancy talking about it.

Before I had the chance to finally take him down, the other Hylian had showed up by the northern town square, begging us to stop fighting. It took me a while to recognise her, but I still remember that face.

_Princess Zelda._

**\- - -**

For about ten years, starting in the year 1903, Mother was part of a group of parents who'd exchange letters every week, and who would meet up in person at a bakery in Hyrule Castle Town every two months or so. I specifically remember three women and their daughters. There had been a red-scaled Zora and her young daughter; the mother was seven years younger than my parents, yet she seemed rather wise and beyond her years. Then there was a Gerudo with rather long, fiery red hair whose two elder children were rather quiet and reserved. I recall this set of twins quite well, even though I never spoke to them _or_ their mother. They'd usually sit by her legs, blankets draped over their shoulders, staring at all my moronic brothers and sisters as they played barbaric games with the Arciere lot. I don't remember their names, but I do know one began with an 'A' and the other began with a 'V'. Her youngest daughter was a newborn. As for the final woman, she was a Hylian. She always seemed to be dressed in the sorts of clothing we'd consider to be luxurious. She'd often have her fair hair swept back into a low bun. She always excitedly spoke with my father, who was the captain of the Rito guard at the time. About what, I didn't know (and I still don't to this very day).

However, I know her daughter all too well.

 _"Hello there!"_ she had told me in a strong Hylian accent on the day we met for the first time, her emerald eyes wide and excited. She then proceeded to shake my hand to a rather violent, brutish degree. _"My name is Zelda! And you?"_

 _"Ow!"_ I had hollered back at her. As you might be able to tell, future children, grandchildren and/or so on and so forths of mine, I hadn't particularly enjoyed having this girl attempt to rip my arm off.

 _"I've never heard **that** name before," _she giggled to me. I muttered my name under my breath. She thought it was hilarious. And then our mothers had introduced us formally.

She was always enthusiastic about the books I read, the stories I wrote and the songs I practised on my violin (if I'm still alive, don't you dare go on rambling about it to our family! It was but a mere phase!). I'd never met someone so intrigued by my trivial life before. I presumed she was from one of those villages on the other side of Hyrule, as I'd often heard my father talking about a silly Hylian knight family who didn't know what they were talking about. But as I would soon learn, she was _actually_ from Hyrule Castle Town. And not just _any_ old house, she lived in its eponymous castle. Mother always told me I should feel honoured that I'm speaking with royalty, but does it really matter? It's _just_ a title. It doesn't matter. And besides, Zelda's mother (the sovereign Queen of Hyrule, might I add) seemed to downplay her status greatly around the children. To us, she was just another mother. The same as my guard parents, and the same as the Zora tailor, and the same as the Gerudo chieftess-in-training. She was _no_ different to anyone else. And she always reminded my mother that there was no need for formalities.

The meetings suddenly stopped in 1906. The Queen of Hyrule had been assassinated by a Yiga Clansman, leaving her husband and her daughter the Kingdom itself.

**\- - -**

Vice-Captain Arciere and I escorted the Princess, her 'knight' and the Sheikah up to the elder's house, where Mother was waiting with the brats, as well as Arciere's newborn son. It was there that we all finally explained ourselves. Zelda's father had been concerned that something serious had happened, and so had asked his daughter, her royal aide (the Sheikah) and the Hylian 'knight' to go on his behalf. The figure following them around was allegedly discovered running around near the front gates of Hyrule Castle Town, and had actually _assisted_ them during times of conflict concerning trips they had taken to the Breach of Demise, Goron City and Gerudo Town. It seemed rather fixated on following the 'knight' around, so after Robbie and Purah had ran some tests on it? It was allowed to stay. I was taken aback.

They call it _'the little guardian'._

Mother apologised profusely for the whole misunderstanding. She saw to it that Impa (that's the royal aide, for your information) was attended to by a doctor, and that Princess Zelda was alright (she was shaken from the whole ordeal, but physically fine). I explained why I had ordered the lockdown: my people didn't feel safe anymore, and I didn't want a repeat of the incident involving the elder. My siblings took great interest in the 'knight', pestering him with questions. He remained silent, just as he had during the fight. Doesn't he know it's rude not to answer people's questions? If he didn't want to speak to them, which I honestly don't blame _anyone_ with more brain cells than the brats, he _could_ have just responded with a simple, _"Oh, I don't feel like answering your questions, sorry."_

There's _no_ need to be so rude!

Impa, Din bless her soul, noticed how unreasonably insolent this 'knight' was being, and she had decided to talk with them. Even _now,_ Medli and Komali won't shut up about her. During this time, Mother, Arciere and I had explained what had happened a couple of nights prior to Zelda and the 'knight'. Thus, we now had the truth as to what had happened on both sides. Needless to say, I think we were _all_ relieved they hadn't come to attack us.

It would have been humiliating to have been taken by only four people...and _ground-_ dwellers, for that matter!

Arciere asked if there was anything we could do to make up for the misunderstanding. Zelda assured her that the King of Hyrule _himself_ had offered to station his forces around the borders so that our guard could catch a much-needed break. And then Impa nudged Zelda, gestured to the site where Medoh was being unearthed, and pointed at me. What the princess asked me has changed my life forever. And it's changed the lives of my mother and siblings.

 _"But Revali!"_ you may be asking in excitement. _"What was that life-changing question?"_

You'll have to wait until tomorrow, I'm afraid. It's getting rather late, and the brats are pestering me to tell them a bedtime story, for Mother's fallen asleep.

Yours sincerely,  
Revali Quill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I wasn't able to update this sooner, I was in a lot of pain last night (this pain has been happening on and off every two weeks for about six weeks now). I'm getting a scan (today hopefully!) to see what it is.
> 
> \- CJ


	7. A note from Medli

Hi!

My name is Medli and I'm four.

My favourite colour is purple.

I love my mom and my little-big brother Komali _very_ much!

But I don't like my bigger brother. His name is Revali and he is VERYmean to me.

He never lets me have the piece of toast I want for breakfast. He said no and that made me sad.

He says really big words all the time. I don't understand him. Can't he just speak like a normal person?

I wish we had a doggy because they're super-duper fluffy and cute!

I drawed a picture of us and our new doggy. I hope my mom likes it! But I DIDN'T draw Revali because he's a meanie who won't give me toast.


	8. Just Another Day on the Calendar

|| April 12, 1916 ||

Dear any children, grandchildren and/or so on and so forths of mine,

Ignore the vandalism from my younger sister. I would have ripped it out, but that would have meant removing the last page of my previous entry. Doing so would be foolish, for the words I'd written there are _far_ too important to discard. Rest assured that Medli _will_ be punished for her deceit and disrespect by the time I conclude writing this. _What_ an insolent child your aunt, great aunt and/or so on and so forth was today...

With that out of the way, I'd like to inform any who may be reading this that today just so happens to be my nineteenth birthday.

I'm not usually one to celebrate the anniversary my mother gave birth to me. It's _just_ another day on the calendar, and a rather grim reminder that one is a year closer to their death. Why birthdays are put on such a high pedestal is _far_ beyond even _my_ knowledge.

**\- - -**

I tried to run things as per usual this morning, despite my elation at Princess Zelda's proposal. There was _still_ much work to do; first and foremost, I needed to formally assess the damage to all buildings and calculate the repair costs. From there, I had to approve supply order forms to be sent out to Hyrule Castle Town, as much of our stockpile was destroyed in the commotion. Afterwards, I was obliged to instruct the guards to assist any civilians where they may need help.

That was my plan, anyway.

What _actually_ happened, however, couldn't have been _any_ further than my intentions.

It all began when Mother had woken me up, informing me that she would be taking over my duties for the day. Before I could even ask her how she intended on doing so with only one leg, she gestured towards the desk in the elder's house and asked me to help her over. Komali followed her like a lost puppy, while our sister was nowhere to be seen. Apparently, she'd decided to spend her pitiful day pestering Vice-Captain Arciere. While I'm still immeasurably angry with Medli, the fact that she'd been talking Arciere's head off brought me _great_ joy.

**\- - -**

I decided to train with a few members of the junior guard, not wanting to waste a perfectly good opportunity. I instructed them that they'd be working on some flight drills, followed by practise on the targets. They verbally agreed, but I _may_ as well have been talking to a brick wall.

They spent the entire morning ogling at the seamstresses and making rather crude comments.

I didn't have the energy to discipline them for their nonsense. In addition to this, I didn't particularly wish to test my already abysmal luck further. I left them be, but I made sure to stop by the clothier in order to inform the seamstresses they were being watched. They thanked me, closed the curtains and continued their work. I must admit, I enjoyed those glares from the junior guard. I'm not sure _why,_ but it brought a smile to my face. Regardless, I hadn't had much more time to help, for a guard summoned me to my mother's desk. There was a visitor waiting for me, all the way from Gerudo Town.

So off I went.

**\- - -**

_"I trust you remember Lady Urbosa?"_ Mother asked me upon my arrival to the elder's house. She gestured to a woman, standing by the desk, that I certainly did remember. She was one of the mothers in the close-knit group of pen-pals my parents had been a part of. 

_"Yes,"_ I responded, _"I do."_ Before I could say a word more, Urbosa had thrown her arms around me, engulfing me in a rather suffocating hug. She then proceeded to ask me a plethora of questions, including but not limited to: _"_ _Are you alright? Is Marli faring well? Is there any way my people can be of assistance?"_ For the most part, it went in one ear and out the other. I could tell her presence was distracting Mother and the guards. I didn't want to disrupt their work, but I also didn't wish to appear rude to Lady Urbosa.

Thus, I made a compromise.

Urbosa and I went on a walk around the village. Komali tagged along with us; he demanded to be carried, but before I could tell him to go and bother somebody else, Urbosa was already crouching down to pick the brat up. He was rather insistent on pulling at her side fringe and poking her nose, which I found rather embarrassing, but Urbosa didn't seem to mind. Or if she did, she wasn't keen on expressing her disdain. She and I spoke for a while. Allegedly, Princess Zelda stopped by her home the other day and had asked if she was willing to pilot a Divine Beast the Sheikah had uncovered within the Gerudo Canyon. Naturally, Urbosa had agreed.

 _"I heard they excavated one here as well,"_ my mother's friend pondered, her eyes gazing over towards the excavation site.

 _"They call it Divine Beast Vah Medoh,"_ I had informed her.

_"Medoh. I presume she was named after the Ancient Sage of Earth."_

Today, I learned that not only the Divine Beast was named after my family's matriarch, but also that my little sister had been named after a sage.

Speaking of the devil, it hadn't been long until the three of us had stumbled across her and Arciere.

**\- - -**

I didn't hold back when I finally crossed paths with Medli. I let her know _exactly_ how I felt about her vandalising my diary. It was a truly _atrocious_ act, and she ought to have been ashamed of herself for even _thinking_ of doing such a thing. I told her that she had her own books and papers to scribble in and on. That if she didn't, she could _always_ use her allowance and purchase more paper. Was it worth ruining my belongings to see me upset, all because I didn't give her the piece of bread _she_ had wanted from the loaf the other day? She needs to stop being such an ungrateful brat all the time, she won't get anywhere in life with that attitude.

I...regret getting as angry as I did with my sister.

I thought I was doing the right thing, you know. Reminding her that she was misbehaving, and to think about her actions. But she had ran over towards our house, bawling her eyes out and stomping as loud as she could. I had been met with a shocked look from Urbosa. Don't even get me _started_ on Arciere.

 _"You're such a conceited asshole, you know that, Revali?!"_ she screamed in my face. _"This is exactly why I left you!"_

First off, I don't think of myself as conceited at _all._ I was _only_ helping my sister learn right from wrong. And in addition, she hadn't left me because of my sister's insolent behaviour. She had left me out of jealousy that _I_ was going to be the captain of the guard and not _her._ Also, _I_ had broken it off a week earlier ever since she'd had that child of hers. I _know_ I wasn't the father. Her son, Kaneli, looks nothing _like_ me. His feathers are light brown, while mine are a dark shade of cobalt blue. His eyes are yellow, and mine? Green...although there _is_ a tinge of brown to them. It's hardly even _noticeable,_ however! Yet, she had been insistent that this boy _was_ my son. Did she _truly_ believe I was born yesterday?

What a load of rubbish!

I'll only say it _once_ , future children, grandchildren and/or so on and so forths. Whatever you do, do _not_ bother wasting time with the Arciere lot. They're not _just_ pesky and deceitful, but they're _also_ absolute morons.

Yours sincerely,  
Revali Quill.


End file.
